Judas

by Caleb Meeks

  Matthew walked back to his car, and sat there, the scene still stuck in his head. Something still seemed off, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

  Chapter Fourteen.

  I stood just inside of the large doors I had walked in just minutes ago. The thing that surprised me the most was the painful obsession with material things. His nameplate was engraved in solid gold. There was a painting on the wall by a famed artist, worth some couple hundred thousand dollars, that could have been painted by a housecat. The richest décor item he had was a framed certificate of gentlemanly service given to him by his staff. Oh, if only they had known sooner. He became so blinded by the material objects he surrounded himself with that it ended up costing him more than any dollar amount could have equaled.

  The female secretary just outside the door was most likely still sitting there, answering emails, setting up appointments, and answering the phone. She didn’t know what was going to happen when she allowed me into the room. Who am I kidding, not even the pig himself knew what walked into the room when it did.

  I adjusted my suit to cover the small droplets of blood that had spattered onto me. The large mirror on the door helped me make the necessary adjustments. It also gave me a view of the crumpled man on the floor behind me. Always nice to admire your handiwork. I took a closer look into the mirror and wiped a few small droplets off of my face.

  The door silently opened, and the secretary looked up and smiled at me. “Pretty quick meeting, how’d it go?”

  “Well. Very well, in fact. We reached a very beneficial outcome.” I said, smiling back at her.

  “Excellent. Always good to hear of Mr. Barnaby doing such good business.” I couldn’t tell if her reaction was genuine happiness, or very shrouded sarcasm.

  I nodded my head in fake agreement. “In fact,” I pulled the sunglasses off my nose and looked her directly in the eyes, “in celebration of the deal, he told me to let you know that you should take a family day. He would have told you himself, but he had an important phone call to get to.”

  She batted her eyes a few times. “Well, that’s very generous of him. Thank you for letting me know. I look forward to the possibility of seeing you around again.” It sounded flirtatious, not something I was used to receiving.

  “Oh, I believe there is a high possibility of you seeing me in the near future.” She smiled, and I walked past her desk and into the elevator. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the way she had in mind.

  I pushed the button to go to the ground floor, and watched the door close. I couldn’t wait to read the headlines all about this one. It’d probably be a few hours, but once that headline hit news agencies, it would be hell on earth.

  I walked back out of the building, pushing my way through the lovely group of perversely mouthed business mongers. Not even they knew the kind of change that was coming in the next few hours. Admittedly, it was tempting to just take a seat and watch them until the news hit, but I had things to do.

  I walked across the street and back to my car, which was still slightly warm. Good business never takes longer than a few minutes. Just as I had left it, a backpack was sitting on the passenger side seat. I grabbed it and opened the zipper. A change of clothes was stuffed inside. A full business suit wasn’t normal to wear casually. I stripped off the layered suit on the side of my car, which did draw a group of people to look at me, but I didn’t really care.

  I exchanged the business suit for a more street friendly outfit. A pair of black jeans, a gray long sleeve shirt, and a pair of running shoes. While it wasn’t my casual appearance, average human errands don’t require a trench coat.

  I stepped back into the car, people still staring at me. I pulled the black sunglasses off, and I was officially a different person than the man that walked out of the Barnaby building minutes ago. I still didn’t feel like myself, but that wasn’t too uncommon. I actually enjoyed blending into the world. To experience normalcy, even if it was fake, helped me cope with the utter opposite of normal my life was.

  By average human errands, I mean I needed to get daily things for the house. Criminals don’t eat bullets and money, even though the media seems to paint it like that, and I had no desire to hire a personal chef, which meant that every now and again, even I had to go to a department store and blend into the public. It’s an interesting experience. Coming from the background I have, walking into such a situation is foreign, but all too fun.

  I drove myself to the nearest store and pulled into a parking space. The best part of running an errand like this is that you get to observe people. You can observe societal trends, married couples, parents, all in their natural habitat. It’s all extraordinarily average and overwhelming at the same time. Very interesting for a man like me.

  Walking down aisles, exchanging smiles, maybe even helping an elderly woman get the peanut butter off the top shelf. It’s always been interesting to take the sunglasses off and really watch people. Make eye contact. It’s amazing what you can learn about people just by looking at them.

  For instance, the woman across the room from me. She trailed behind her boyfriend, almost like an animal on a leash. She was young, probably a few years younger than me. Given the long sleeve shirt, fearful disposition, and emotionally raw eyes, it was brutally obvious that he was abusive. Now, in my normal environment, I would have made an example of him. However, an environment like this required a more tactful approach. Pulling the gun that’s holstered in the small of my back and putting a bullet through the tip of his finger wasn’t an option.

  I walked toward them, though not giving it away that it was them I was walking towards. To them, I was just another normal person looking at produce. It took some minutes of waiting, but eventually he walked away, and she stayed behind. That was the opportunity I had been waiting for.

  “You know, you shouldn’t let a coward like him treat you like this.” I said, still fingering through the produce like I actually was looking at it.

  “Excuse me?” She turned around towards me, a tinge of hopefulness creeping in.

  I didn’t turn to her, but kept talking. “You shouldn’t let him keep hurting you. He’s so weak that he has to make it seem like he’s powerful. You don’t have to let him keep doing it.” I turned to her, setting the apple I had in my hand down. She locked eyes with me, and I could see tears starting to well up. “Take it from someone with experience. Don’t let him treat you like that.” I turned away, and walked away. A couple tears silently fell down her face. She was clearly shaken to the core by what I had said, but there was a hope and strength in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

  It’s moments like that where I experience what it’s like to be human, and for a moment, it almost grabbed hold of me. Then my phone rang, reminding me that I’m not a participant in this world, just an actor.

  The caller ID listed Dom. I flicked my finger across the screen.

  “Hello?” I said, maintaining the casual appearance I put on for this outing.

  “Judas? Where are you?” Dominic’s voice came through the phone. It wavered slightly, like it would if you were terrified, or furious.

  “Hey, Dom,” I said, slightly concerned by the tone of his voice, “I’m running errands. What do you need?” A little but of the authoritative side unintentionally came out.

  “I think there’s some stuff we need to talk about. How fast can you get down here to my house?”

  “Twenty minutes, give or take.”

  “Okay, well get down here as soon as you can.” He hung up before I could say anything else.

  I pulled the phone from my ear, infinitely confused by his sudden behavior. Without even thinking, I left the basket of items I had complied in the middle of the aisle and walked out of the building. Situations like this are the perfect reminder that I could never be part of this world. It felt good while it lasted, but it never lasted long enough to build a life.

  Once I got back in the car, I routed the fastest way to Dominic’s house, and imme
diately headed towards it. With strategically breaking a few laws, I made it to his house in about twenty-five minutes. The sun was still shining slightly, and the clouds were gone, but there was already a near tangible air of tension that didn’t fit the natural environment.

  I stepped out of the car, and walked to his door. My fist pounded on the door, and just seconds after I knocked, Dominic opened the door. I had my hand prepped to go for the gun in case there was a situation going on.

  “What is up with you?” I asked.

  He reached out and grabbed my arm to pull me inside. I knocked his arm off of me once I stepped inside the door.

  “Sorry.” He took a breath and rested his hands on his hips. “Sorry. But, what were you thinking?”

  “What are you talking about Dominic?” I said, completely unaware of what was working him up so seriously.

  “Why would you to kill Hank Barnaby?” He said, intensity shaking his voice.

  “What?” I asked.

  “What would drive you kill Hank Barnaby, Judas? I mean the money thing was clever but why would you kill him? I get that you wanted to make a spectacle, but what happened that would make you do that. And what would drive you leave your name? What’s gotten into you?”

  “Dominic, I didn’t kill him! I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” I yelled back, maybe a little more forcefully than I should have.

  He looked shocked. At first, he looked insulted, like I was denying the obvious answer right in front of him, but then it hit him that I was being entirely serious. “What?” He said this time.

  “Just calm down and start at the beginning.” I said, trying to snap him out of the stunned look he was giving me. He turned and walked over into his living room. “What are you doing, Dominic?”

  He grabbed the television remote and flipped the screen on. “It would just be easier to show you.”

  The TV screen clicked on and I was immediately taken aback by the story on the front. The news headline read-Business mogul Hank Barnaby donates 1.6 billion, then is found dead in his office. It was one of the first times in my life where something truly rattled me. Then the detail that Dominic just touched on flashed on the screen. It was an aerial shot of the building, and just as he said, written in the dripping blood of Hank Barnaby, was my name across the giant window I was just looking out of a couple hours ago.

  “I don’t…” I said, trailing off.

  “You’re telling me you didn’t do this?” He said, clearly still trying to wrap his mind around the scene in front of him.

  “Dominic, I didn’t do this. I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this, and you need to get that though your head.” Again, one of those moments where authority came out when it perhaps shouldn’t have.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry, Judas, but how could I see that and not assume it was you.”

  “Well, you could have just realized that I would never deliberately leave my name scrawled in blood on a window, facing the whole city. But, given the circumstances, I’ll let that one go. I was there, I met with him, and after speaking with him for a few minutes, I realized it wasn’t going to work out. Yeah, I roughed him up, got a little blood on my hands, but I did not kill him.”

  “Then who did?” He said, unsure he even wanted to know the answer.

  “There’s only one answer to that question, and I think we both know what it is.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of…” Hopelessness came over his face. “What’s the purpose, though? Why would he do this?”

  “That’s what worries me. He’s preparing for something. Something big.” I paused for a moment, leaving Dominic awaiting further explanation. “He’s trying to turn everyone against me. Frame me for things I haven’t done, so the world will start paying attention. For the past years, they’ve been wiping every trace of me from the world. He wanted to give them something they couldn’t erase.”

  “I just don’t understand how he did it.”

  “He must have had eyes on me the whole time, following me into the building.” I said, unnerved by the idea that he was following me without my knowledge. He could have been one of the men sitting in the building, or one of the bystanders who watched me change when I got back to my car. The thought sent chills over my whole body.

  “I hate to bring this up, but if he had eyes on you the whole time, why didn’t he just take you out when he had the chance?” It pained him to say the words, but it was a question he had to ask.

  “He wants to make an example of me. He has a plan, and it doesn’t just end with me dying. He wants it to be a show. Some kind of sick entertainment for him.”

  “Do you know something that I don’t, Judas?” He asked.

  “Dominic, I wish I did. There’s no point in keeping things from you now. You’re in this as deep as I am. For once, there is a situation, and I don’t have all the information I need.”

  “Alright, so what’s your plan?” He asked, clearly hoping I had some kind of master, get out of jail free plan already constructed.

  “I don’t know, Dominic. I don’t know.” And for once in my life, I didn’t.

  Chapter Fifteen.

  I ended up leaving Dominic’s house soon after that. There wasn’t much else to be said, and I needed the space to figure out what to do. This feeling of hopelessness wasn’t familiar, but it had a way about it that seemed rooted in my subconscious. One of those emotions that gets ahold of you and doesn’t let go.

  I went back to my house, but something felt foreign about it. A home is supposed to be a place where you feel safe, and I bought this house out in the middle of nowhere for that exact purpose. Still, though, that safety seemed gone. That once comforting darkness that filled the rooms had changed, like something hauntingly evil was hiding in every corner.

  Embracing the darkness, I closed the door behind me. The living room and kitchen lay before me, but something had me paralyzed. Be it fear or memory, a few moments went by where I stood still, unable to force myself forward. You’d think that being a man in my position, I would be familiar with this experience, maybe not even feel it, and you’d be right. This would be the first time I’d ever experienced something like it, and I’m not sure how I felt about it.

  I could feel an almost tangible layer of darkness coming over me, but I still couldn’t move. Though at this point, it was hard to tell if I couldn’t move, or if I just wouldn’t move. This innately human experience was practically intoxicating.

  That intoxicating feeling halted almost immediately. It was like a hand reached in through my chest and had a death grip around my lungs. My breathing became shallow and forced, and it became obvious something was wrong. That was enough to knock me out of whatever trance like state I was in.

  My foot stepped forward, almost instinctively, and I didn’t stop it from happening. It was almost like my body went into autopilot mode for a few steps, just to give me enough of a jolt to take back my faculties. It worked, and I took back over from the autopilot. It seemed right to go up the stairs, and eventually, I found my way to my bedroom. I stepped into the bathroom, and turned the cold water on. I convinced myself that I had just gotten too worked up over the Barnaby incident, and a cold shower would give me the reset I needed.

  I thought that trying to focus on the tasks at hand would help distract me, but it seemed to make everything worse. There were no tasks at hand that were of any importance anymore. It felt like everything was crumbling to pieces underneath me, and it truly was.

  After I had stood underneath the water for an indeterminable about of time, I stepped out. The dark presence seemed to have taken a backseat, at least for the moment. I dried the water off of me, walked into the closet, grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and put them on. The wound from the meeting with Jackson’s guard was mostly healed by now. It was already leaving a scar, but it would just blend in with the others. I’d just add it to the collection. My body looked like a poorly painted abstract art piece at this point
. Each of the scars represented a storyline ending. I wondered momentarily if the next storyline that would end would be mine, but quickly pushed the thought out of my mind.

  I left the darkened closet and walked back down the stairs. It was still just as dark as it was when I arrived, but the evil presence that was lurking earlier seemed to have faded. Or was just hiding back in the corners…

  This is another one of those nights where the glass bottles sitting on the counter called extremely loudly. I’ll preface that by saying that I’ve never been a heavy drinker, but in the earlier years of my life, I didn’t shy away from relying on the bottles to quiet the voices in my head. That was before I learned to cohabitate with them.

  Somehow, I had ended up down in the kitchen, holding a bottle of vodka. A little voice in the back of my mind edged me on, promising that the haunting would stop if I just fed it. I guess it was one of the voices that I allowed to stay when I used to drink. It does this every so often, promising that if I just give it what it wants, then it will leave me be. I used to give into its promise, but it never held up its end of the bargain. I took a look at the clear liquid that was just below the top of the bottle, and remembered all the memories tainted by the familiar scent. My body began to remember the outcome of those memories, and it was like my father was back again. With that trip down memory lane, I turned the bottle over on its end over the sink, and the liquid flowed out down the drain. That voice in my mind screamed its disapproval, losing the friendly, comforting voice, and replacing it with a guttural, almost demonic tone. After a moment of vulgar screaming, the voice shriveled and was quiet. It was a relief that was unfamiliar, but welcome.

  I dropped the bottle in the sink, and left it sit there. For a moment, it almost felt like a victory, but then the reality of everything else going on flooded back into my mind, and that small “victory” seemed infinitesimal. I grabbed a glass from above the sink, and filled it with water. Not quite the same mental relief as vodka, but we already covered that.